Ticking away
by MyLadyDay
Summary: Death row was the last place Shanks thought he'd make a friend. PrisonAU


No matter what image he had conjured in his head the moment that judge passed his sentence, Shanks found that death row didn't look anything like he was expecting. It was just a long, sterile looking hallway lined with metal bars. Well, at least that part was just like he had imagined. Almost all of those cells were empty, as far as he could see while he was being led to what would be his home for the foreseeable future.

His was cell number two, the second to last at the end of the hall. There were eight cells total and he had seen two other prisoners; funny enough, he actually recognized them from all the times they were being hunted and their pictures displayed on the news. If Lucky Roo and Yasopp were there, Shanks couldn't help but wonder if there was anyone in the cell next to his. It was the only one he didn't get to see as he was put into his own and the bars locked immediately.

The guards left without a word, leaving him basically alone on display for his fellow inmates. The two were looking at him and he wasn't sure whether they looked dangerous or curious.

"Aw, Benn, you won't get to see the youngster," Lucky Roo said with a grin and Yasopp joined in on the laughter. Shanks was confused for a moment before he heard a third voice from the cell next to his.

"Don't scare him," the deep voice said to the others before it spoke to him. "Don't mind them, kid, they're just bored. Name's Benn," he said and Shanks noticed a hand reach out from the neighboring cell just by the wall where they met. He took the hand in an awkward handshake.

"Shanks," he said simply, feeling a bit more at ease, but still generally freaked out like you'd expect from someone sentenced to death. It was unnerving, really, knowing the exact time of his death and he was pretty sure the others could hear it in his voice. He still had ten years to spend in that cell, whether they were going to be short or long, he wasn't able to say.

The man in the cell next to his was easy to talk to, though, and it was hard not to become friends with him as his time slowly trickled by. Shanks almost lost count of how many years had passed since their first encounter, if he could call it that considering they had never actually seen each other even if Benn's voice was the only pleasant constant in Shanks' life. However, he didn't lose count; it had been exactly five years, eight months, two weeks and four days since he was locked into that cell. And, as he'd been told only recently, it was only 24 hours until Benn would be taken from his cell.

Shanks was anxious, ever more so than Benn himself, as they waited through that last day. The day started like any other; they got their breakfast, they talked about some book Benn had read, but Shanks couldn't find it in himself to remember. All he focused on was Benn's voice, something he had come to treasure, but would now be ripped from his daily life. It made him forget just how much time of his own life was left. He did his best not to mention anything, yet he was certain Benn knew. He came to know everything about Shanks, except what he actually looked like. An odd friendship, to say the least.

He was counting down the minutes as the hour came closer and closer. Only two hours before the appointed time, the guards unlocked the door and stepped into the hall in formation. They walked across the linoleum floor, their shiny shoes clacking on the sterile looking surface. None of them looked into his cell, they were focused on his destination. He, on the other hand, never took his eyes off the small group. Moving against the bars of his cell, Shanks waited and observed as the guards called Benn's name before cuffing him through the bars.

Even if he wanted to protest, Shanks knew it would mean nothing. He could do nothing more than to watch as the main guard yelled for cell one to be opened, the loud buzzer signaling the movement of the bars sounding only moments after. Even if this was the last day of his friendship with Benn, Shanks couldn't help but feel a burning excitement over the fact that he would finally see what Benn looked like.

He really didn't know what he had been expecting, but found himself slightly surprised when a tall muscular man walked out of the cell. His hair was long and black, tied at the nape of his neck. Benn turned to Shanks with a small smile, studying his face with interest and Shanks could see how Benn's eyes stopped on his scars for a moment. This wasn't how he wanted to properly meet Benn. It wasn't how his life should have gone.

With pressure building at the back of his eyes and his mouth slightly agape, Shanks watched as the guards surrounded Benn and prepared to take him out of death row. Shanks didn't want to think about what would happen beyond the door at the end of the hall, he really didn't, but he couldn't stop the ideas forming in his mind.

The guards started moving, Benn with them despite the cuffs around his ankles. Shanks' eyes never left him. Benn turned to Shanks as they were passing his cell and smiled sadly, only slowing his step to speak for a moment.

"I wish we didn't have to meet like this," Benn said, reconciling the voice Shanks had been listening to for almost six years already with the face he finally got to see. It was a voice he wouldn't hear again. Shanks was trying hard not to show his despair, Benn's words doing nothing to quell the sadness.

"Me too," he said and it was a stupid thing to say, yet there was nothing else he could think of as his eyes watered and the guards were already leading Benn away. It was a short walk and the last thing Shanks saw was Benn glancing at him over his shoulder with that same sad smile on his face. The door closed with a bang and silence took over, disturbed only by the ticking of the god forsaken clock on the hallway wall. Shanks could already hear it ticking away at his own life as if nothing had happened at all.


End file.
